Alina slowly grew used to her routine at the Little Palace. It was not unlike home in that Father insisted she had to be up and dressed for breakfast at seven in the morning, only here she was attended to by Genya, which Father would surely have scoffed at. She was just glad that the hateful maids that had come to bath her on the first day did not return.
Genya came to Alina every morning to help her get ready for the day - though she was certain she could get ready on her own - and was there every evening too, after she had finished serving the queen. The girl was two years older than she was, and rather prissy, with a love for fancy clothes and elaborate hairstyles that Alina would never share. However, she was no-nonsense, and funny too, especially when talking about the vain old queen. Not to mention her talent for changing colours and faces - Tailoring, it was called - was fascinating.
"Could you make me purple?" She asked one morning, sat at the dressing table as Genya worked. "Not that I want you to, but could you?"
"Probably," The girl giggled. "I can't say I've tried. I don't think the queen would be happy if I made her look like a plum,"
"From what you've told me, she'd deserve it," Alina shrugged.
Genya gasped - dramatically, in her opinion - flicking her nose. Alina scrunched it up indignantly. "You can't say things like that. I didn't want to tell you that the queen can be... difficult. You pressed it out of me!"
"You were in a bad mood and I wanted to know why,"
"How could you tell I was annoyed? The queen never realises. Or doesn't care,"
"I don't know. I just could,"
"That's not a good answer, Alina. Use your words, even if you have to say them in that hateful accent,"
"Not all of us grew up in a palace learning how to speak all proper," She rolled her eyes, but smiled.
Alina liked Genya, different though they were. It was a shame she wasn't allowed to come and sit in the hall with the others for meals, because she had to go and serve the royals and slept in the Grand Palace. They always got along well, despite the older girl despairing of Alina's bluntness and irreverence, and Alina rolling her eyes at Genya's fussing. The girl asked too many questions.
"What's your favourite flower?" Genya had asked casually one day.
"Red poppies," Alina replied, frowning. "Why?" Poppies had grown in the fields around Temgora, the fields that she and Mal had often hidden in to avoid lessons and their parents' wrath. At the reminder of her friend, she felt a sudden stab of missing him. She doubted he missed her as much as she missed him. Unlike her, he had always fit in and would no doubt forget her soon enough, making other, better friends.
"Saints, Alina, have you not heard of making civilised conversation?" The girl laughed, noticing but ignoring her sudden melancholy. "I like pink roses myself. Pale pink, not those bright pink monstrosities that the queen favours. They go well with my hair,"
After Genya had come and gone for the morning, Alina would go down to breakfast. The Darkling was not often there for any meal apart from dinner, and she got sick of sitting at the head of the table in one of the big dark chairs on her own, being stared at, so often went to join either her new friend Viktor at the Summoner's table, or Katya sat with the Fabrikator's. It had caused a stir the first time she had done such a thing, but Alina had ignored it. Soon everyone else did too (though she didn't dare leave her assigned seat when the Darkling was in attendence).
It was nice, though, having friends. Back home she had only ever had Mal. While she loved him dearly, the other children had shunned her at best, and picked on her at worst (though that had only given her a chance to scare them). Here, she was spoilt for choice. Everyone wanted to be her friend, and she wanted little to do with most of them. There were two who were particularly persistant, the annoying Marie and Nadia, who she struggled to shake off.
To her slight relief (though she would pretend otherwise), Katya had been assigned to the same class as Alina for ordinary subjects such as literacy, mathematics, history and languages; their group had been assigned to learn Kerch. There must be something about being attacked by Druskelle that brought people together.
Whilst good at mathematics, Alina was rather behind compared to some of the others her age here. The schools in Dva Stolba were not the best, and most children missed a lot of days to help their parents with chores or work. But Katya was smart and picked it all up fast, so was helpful to sit beside. The Alkemi girl might have been quiet, but having gotten over the shock of being uprooted from her home, she showed a rather sly sense of humour.
Seeing as she was behind for her age in most book-based subjects, Alina had been sent to the library to read extra books in her own time to catch up. Whilst some were interesting, most were deathly dull, and she soon became distracted by the fiction section of the library, which housed the most wonderful stories. She devoured many such books, often with Katya reading beside her.
"Miss Starkova," Their teacher had caught her reading a storybook in class, tucked into the cover of her boring history textbook about the formation of the Second Army, and the Darkling's boring ancestor Leonid. "That does not look like what you're supposed to be reading,"
"It's not," She grumbled. "It's about evil demons hunting and eating children. But it's more interesting than The First Grisha General,"
"Don't let the Darkling hear you saying that. Leonid is his ancestor, after all," The teacher warned.
Alina had found that the staff here often used the Darkling as a threat, and that it was quite effective. Not for her, though. "Well his ancestor is boring. Can't we learn about the Black Heretic instead?"
That earned several overly-dramatic gasps from some of the others.
Her insolence earned her a punishment of helping the librarian sort through old books one evening, instead of the free time they were given after dinner. She did not particularly mind - this was hardly a punishment, compared to what she was used to - and found it quite interesting. The librarian was a very old Durast named Konstantin, who was about as dusty and decrepit as many of his books. The man had warm dark eyes and a kind smile, however, and did not seem too concerned with enforcing her punishment too strictly. He also answered her (many) questions without fail.
"Have you got any books on the Black Heretic, Kostya?" Alina asked, two hours in.
"Only in my private collection," The old librarian said in his reedy voice. "The Darkling doesn't like being reminded of the mistakes his ancestor made," He smiled and tapped his nose. "Not that you'll be repeating that, mind. Or I might actually make you sort through these books, instead of sitting there talking my ear off,"
Alina was sat on the edge of a desk, swinging her legs. "You like those books too much to let me mess with them," She said, unconcerned. "Can I see the Black Heretic books?"
"No. But I'll tell you a little of what's in them, and you'll be grateful for that much," Konstantin said, and she bit back her protest; that was more than he had to tell her. "The Black Heretic was the son of the second Shadow Summoner to serve a Lanstov king. Leonid was the first, and the one to end the persecution of Grisha by law in Ravka. Once his father passed, the Heretic took his place as the Darkling, the tsar's loyal servant.
"The popular story goes that he betrayed the tsar, tried to seize power for himself, failed, fled and created the Fold out of spite. However, the version that is not known to most otkazat'sya is that the Lanstov king betrayed the Heretic first. With the wars won, the tsar was facing pressure from the nobles and commons alike to end his alliance with the Grisha, who were still mostly hated and feared. The Heretic saw this betrayal coming - which would have resulted in his head on a chopping block - and attempted a coup. It failed. Many of his Grisha were killed, and he was forced to flee.
"The king's soldiers cornered him in the Tula valley. Some stories suggest they killed a Healer named Luda who was very dear to him, but it's unsure if this is just a fanciful detail added in retelling. Either way, cornered, betrayed and angry, the Black Heretic called upon merzost - "
"What's merzost?"
Konstantin laughed, shaking his head. "I could talk for a week and still not answer that question fully. In short, I'm sure you have learnt already that the Small Science is not magic? Inferni make fire from elements already in the air. Fabrikators work with existing materials. Grisha cannot conjure or vanish anything, merely redisperse and control it," Alina nodded. "Merzost is the opposite. It is dangerous, unnatural, hard to control, and takes a toll on the caster.
"The Black Heretic used merzost that day. Whether it was his intention to create the Fold or not, he lost control of the dark power he called upon. The toll on his body was so great it killed him, of course. Along with hundreds of people, that day and in the centuries to come,"
Alina thought on that for a long while. "So if the king hadn't betrayed him, there wouldn't be a Fold?"
"Perhaps. It's hard to say. Some claim the Heretic was scheming to take Ravka's throne long before there was a hint of a betrayal. But the Fold was the work of a desperate, angry man backed into a corner. Was he a monster? Maybe, maybe not. But what he did was no doubt monstrous either way,"
"I still think it was the king's fault just as much as his," Alina said.
Konstantin chuckled. "Though I won't disagree with you, best to keep thoughts like that to yourself. Some in the Grand Palace may see that as treason,"
"That's stupid," She pulled a face.
"That's life," He said with a sigh. "You will find that a great many people are stupid, Solnishka. A good thing our Sun Summoner likes to read, at least. Do try and keep a healthy interest in books - most powerful people could learn a lot from them,"
Alina promised that she would.
Her time at the Little Palace was not all ordinary subjects and evenings in the library, of course. Grisha theory was just as challenging as Alina's mundane lessons, but infinitely more interesting. She itched to use her powers for real rather than simply reading about the small science. Yet despite her tentative friendships with Genya and Katya, Alina had not known anyone in these classes, which she took with the young Etherealki. On the first day, she had been sat next to a Tidemaker named Viktor, however, and the two had hit it off at once.
Viktor had only been at the Little Palace for a month or two, not much longer than Alina, and shared the same dark sense of humour as she did, but was louder, wittier and more fun. He reminded her a little of Mal, only far more open-minded. The boy was one of the few to barely notice Alina's black kefta, or care that she was the Sun Summoner. They often got into trouble together, and earned the irritation of the girl sat in front of them, a Squaller named Zoya.
Zoya was one of those people that Alina instantly disliked. Sour-faced, stuck-up and a know-it-all teacher's pet, disapproving of all fun. They got off on the wrong foot after the girl snitched on her and Viktor for talking in class, and from then on it had been war.
"Will you two grow up?" The Squaller turned around to glare at them both. That morning, around a month after Alina had arrived at the Little Palace, they had been flicking tiny balls of ripped parchment at the back of her head, many getting stuck in her hair. "I don't care you're the Sun Summoner, Starkova - I will summon a wind to blow you back to the pigsty you both crawled out of,"
"Viktor grew up in a manor house," Alina said. "But it doesn't matter - you couldn't summon enough of anything to blow out a church candle,"
That, it seemed, had been the final straw in a long line of annoyances. Zoya's pride was stronger than her desire to please her teachers. And, unfortunately, her powers were stronger even than her pride.
The Squaller got to her feet with a screech of her chair, making a sharp motion with her hand. Before Alina knew what had happened, her desk had flown up into her face with enough force to knock her off her chair. She hit the floor painfully, but shoved the desk off her and scrambled to her feet at once, ignoring the surprised exclaimations from the teacher and entire class.
Alina forgot she was Grisha in that moment (probably for the best, seeing as she had done nothing with her light except turn eight men into charred corpses). But instinct drilled into her by years of being picked on by other children had not been left in Temgora. She threw herself at Zoya, hand curled into a fist like her father had taught her, and punched her across the face.
Her mistake had been to assume that Zoya was not good at fighting too. Most children backed off the moment Alina showed any hint of having a spine. To Alina's surprise, this girl responded to her punch not with tears or shrieking, but a vicious strike of her own.
It hurt - something had definitely cracked in her nose - but Alina felt a thrill rush through her at the prospect of a worthy match. She grinned, Zoya glared, and they began to brawl in earnest. Punching, kicking, scratching, the latter mostly from Alina. She had learned to fight in alleyways and the schoolyard, whilst Zoya had trained in Botkin's classes.
The noise around them barely registered, until they were dragged apart by two oprichniki. Alina's guards; she knew their names, Boris and Oktai. Oktai was a human amplifier, like the Darkling and Maria, only he was otkazat'sya and from Shu Han. Alina she felt her power flare up at his touch.
"Stop," She said with wide eyes as her hands started to glow, and he practically jumped back, thankfully realising what had happened. The glow died down, and Alina saw that for the first time, Zoya looked afraid. It didn't bring her the satisfaction she thought it would.
"Saints!" Their teacher was scandalised, and the rest of the class were either gawping, wide-eyed and scared, or grinning and cheering them on. Viktor was amongst the latter group. "Get a hold of yourself, girls! You are Grisha, not street rats! A pack of fighting dogs shows more restraint," Well that just wasn't true. "Zoya, I expected better from you especially,"
There were no such expectations for Alina. In the short time she had been here, Sun Summoner or not, she had built up a reputation as trouble.
Zoya was still restrained by Boris - the gruff, older oprichnik - and was glaring daggers at her. The girl's face was covered in bruises and grazes. Alina knew she looked just as bad herself. Now the rush of the fight was wearing off, her nose in particular was starting to really hurt.
"Get these two to the Healer's wing," The teacher snapped. "Expect to receive punishments later. You'll both be lucky if I don't report you to the Darkling for this outrageous behaviour,"
"They'll tell him anyway," Alina glanced at the oprichniki.
She caught a flash of true fear in Zoya's face at that. She hadn't intended for that, and it didn't make her feel good. For the first time in her life, Alina felt privileged. It was well known that the Darkling showed a special interest in her, that she was different and special; any punishment she received would be trivial in comparison. Zoya, on the other hand, might be in genuine trouble. The Darkling had been pleasant to Alina considering his reputation, but he was feared for a reason.
This thought settled as an uncomfortable knot in her stomach as they were escorted to the Healer's wing. She and Zoya both ended up sat on opposite beds, glowering at each other as they were fixed up. But Alina still felt uneasy.
"I'll tell him I started it," She said once the stern Healer left them with a warning to behave, looking away from the other girl. There was no need to clarify what she meant. "You didn't really hurt me. And it was my fault anyway,"
"I don't need your pity," Zoya sniffed, though when Alina glanced her way she saw slight relief cross her face.
"I don't pity you," She scoffed. "You broke my nose,"
"Good," Came the irritable reply. "I hope it really hurts," Something about the way she said that made Alina laugh. "What's so funny?"
"You," Alina said, then hastily added, "When you're not being a goody-goody snitch,"
"When I'm punching you in the face and knocking you off your chair with a desk?" The girl raised an incredulous eyebrow.
"You're more fun that way," She grinned. "Our fight livened up that lesson, didn't it? Don't pretend you didn't know everything about that chapter before we started,"
"You didn't. You're stupid," Zoya sniffed, though she did seem to be hiding a brief smile. Then she hesitated. "But you do throw a good punch,"
That was as close to an olive branch as she was going to get.
"You too," Alina said. "Did they find your tooth?"
"Belsky kicked it through the floorboards when I saw it," The girl glared. Alina snorted. "It's not funny!"
"Oh it's only a baby tooth. You'll grow another one,"
"I hope they can't fix your nose and it stays crooked forever," Zoya said, though there wasn't any malice to it. Well, not much.
True to her word, Alina later on told the Darkling that the fight was her fault and that Zoya should not be punished so harshly. He hadn't really listened, of course, and Zoya had been put on half-rations for a month and assigned to servant's duties for a week. Better than it could have been, she supposed, but still embarrassing and unpleasant.
"It was decent of you to try," The girl mumbled, then to cover her uneasiness at being grateful said, "Though it would be even more decent of you to help me scrub this floor,"
Alina pulled a face. "No chance,"
The other girl threw a wet rag at her face, which she dodged, laughing.
They never said it in so many words, but from that day Zoya was Alina's friend. Of a sort. They still snapped and sniped at each other, but both had equally matched sharp tongues and a thick skin, which made such things amusing. Aside from how hard she tried to please her superiors, Alina found herself starting to like Zoya. She was one of the few people who looked at her in a worse light for her black kefta, which was refreshing.
"Where do you actually sleep?" Zoya asked her one day, in that imperious tone. "I know it's not in any of the dormitories,"
"Does the Darkling keep you locked up safe in his private wing?" Viktor was joking, but unknowingly accurate. "Can't have the precious Sun Summoner mixing with us commoners,"
"Oh shut up, Belsky," Alina rolled her eyes. "You're from one of the richest families in court,"
"True, but stop stalling. Where do you sleep?" He grinned, undeterred.
Alina grimaced. "I do have rooms in Darkling's wing, actually,"
"Rooms?" Zoya's eyebrow shot up. How did she raise only one like that without looking stupid? Alina would have to try it in the mirror later.
"Jealous?" She forced herself to play it off, misliking yet another thing that made her privileged.
"Yes," Viktor said, when Zoya looked like she'd bitten a particularly sour lemon. "You don't have to put up with anyone else's snoring. Or wait for everyone to get out of the bathroom. And I think I can hear Zoya talking in her sleep even from the boys' dorms,"
Zoya shot him a dirty look, but then seemed to swallow her envy towards Alina with some difficulty and fix her usual sneer on her face.
"And you had the nerve to call me a teacher's pet,"
Alina just laughed. At least she gave as good as she got.
Viktor and Zoya were not her only friends. More recently, Alina had befriended a Heartrender girl a year younger than her in her combat lessons with Botkin. Nina was loud-mouthed, cheerful and friendly; on first impressions, perhaps the opposite of Alina.
"I'm an orphan," Nina had beamed within ten minutes of meeting her. "I had lots of friends at the orphanage, until this one awful boy started picking on me with his friends. Then I found I could slow down his heart, and take his breath away, and they didn't do it any more. Then the examiners found me and brought me here. I still write to them, though. They sometimes write back. Or the matron does,"
She had said that all very fast. Normally someone so... loud would have annoyed Alina, but there was something so genuine and warm about that Nina could not help but like her. Even if she was hopeless at combat.
"You hold your fists like this," Alina had taken to Botkin's lessons well, remembering her Father's advice, and Nina was often begging her for help. The Heartrender disliked exercise.
"Even you're better than me, and I've been here a year," The other girl groaned. "I'm useless at this,"
"How are you still in the beginner's group?" Alina had asked with a grin, and Nina had shoulder-barged her in amused indignation. That succeeded in knocking her off balance, as Alina was tiny and Nina was far more robust.
"Sun Summoner," Botkin called over to her as both girls laughed. "Here,"
Alina said goodbye to Nina and crossed the yard to where an oprichnik - Arkady, the young one who always cracked jokes - was stood beside their teacher.
"The Darkling wishes to see you, Alina," He said, before returning his attention to the other children.
"Couldn't it have waited until after my class?" She grumbled, casting a longing look over to where Nina was now attempting to spar with someone else.
"Surely you've been here long enough to know that the Darkling waits for no one," Arkady grinned as they left the yard. "He's a general, Alina. You're lucky you're one of a kind, or you'd be the first Grisha to be kicked out of the Little Palace before the age of ten,"
"But I am one of a kind, so it doesn't matter," Sometimes she didn't mind being the Sun Summoner. Arkady was right; she did get away with much more than other children.
"You're growing a bit cocky, aren't you?" He sounded more amused than anything else.
Alina elbowed him in the side, barely hard enough to make him wince; oprichnik training was the tougher than all First Army regiments, and certainly harder than the guards from the Grand Palace.
The moment they neared the Darkling's wing, however, Arkady wiped the smile from his face and fell in step a short way behind her. It still unnerved her, that change into a blank, professional mask that all the guards seemed to perfect. He showed her into the Darkling's study without a word, only a respectful nod, closing the door behind him.
"Sit, Alina," The Black General gestured to the chair in front of his desk. "Where have you just come from, combat training?"
"Yes," She couldn't help but keep the annoyance out of her tone as she sat.
He just smiled. "My apologies for dragging you away. I'd have waited for later, only I have an important meeting with several high ranking members of the First Army,"
"How come you wanted to meet with me at all?" She asked. "I see you at dinner every day anyway,"
"I wish to discuss your lessons," He said. "From what I gather, you enjoy Botkin's classes. He told me that, and I quote, you 'fight like a street rat - not especially talented, but vicious enough to be effective'. What do you make of that?"
"I win most of the time, don't I?" She shrugged. "That's all that matters,"
"In combat, I suppose you're right," He granted. "And I'm sure you will learn proper technique in time. However, my issue lies with the fact that your languages teacher also seems to think you treat his classes like a fight to be won. And your history teacher described you as 'an apt pupil, but sullen, rude and irreverent'," There was a slight edge to his tone that told her he was not best pleased.
"Have you got every grown-up here telling you tales?" She scowled. Everything she did got back to the Darkling sooner or later. "If I'm rude to Natalia Carova it's because she's rude to me. And she's not as scary as Father," Her father hit her with his belt, locked her in a cupboard, stuck her head in a cold bath. She had not seen any such thing happen here, only shouting, stern words and non-corporal punishments.
"Do people have to scare you to earn your respect, Alina?"
"No,"
"Do you respect me?"
She thought on that for a moment. "Yes," Alina said eventually, for it was the smart thing to say, and she did mean it.
"Why?"
"You listen to me. Usually. When I tell you I don't want to do things, you don't make me for the sake of it. And you speak to me like I'm a grown-up. Mostly. More than other people do,"
He looked pleased by that. "Then I suppose that's what matters. But Alina," She looked up at him. "I won't have you slacking. Perform well in your lessons, and we will have no problems," She nodded; that was fair enough. He was essentially saying behave how you like, so long as you're clever. "Also, now you have covered basic Grisha theory, you will be starting a new set of lessons next week. Has anyone told you of Baghra?"
"Yes. No one likes her,"
He smirked at that. "Her methods are not popular, but they are effective. Especially with you, I think,"
"Why?"
"I'm sure you'll find out next week,"
Alina fell silent, a little annoyed by his lack of elaboration, but not enough to push it further.
Later that evening, she was getting ready for bed. She was up later than normal as she and Genya - who was there to help her undress and brush out her hair - had gotten carried away chatting and laughing. But both girls paused as they heard an unfamiliar voice out in the hall.
"That's a woman," She said, listening. "Why is she here this late?"
Genya giggled. "Aw, baby Alina. Do you not know what happens when a man and a woman share a bed?"
"Oh," She realised, eyes widening for a moment, then she realised she was being laughed at and scowled. "Of course I know what happens. Back home there was only a curtain upstairs between where Mother and Da slept and where me and Misha slept,"
Unlike the sheltered nobles, common children knew what marital relations were from an early age. It was unavoidable, living in such close quarters.
"Saints, you really were poor," Genya pulled a face, and Alina elbowed her. The girl laughed. "Sorry. Wasn't it strange, hearing your parents... you know?"
Alina shrugged. "Not really. Just annoying when I couldn't sleep," She paused. "I didn't realise the Darkling was married,"
Her friend giggled again. "He's not,"
She frowned. "Then why..?"
"People can lay together without being married, Alina," Genya said, in all her wordly knowledge (being two years older than she was). "Ladies keep it quiet, as everyone thinks they're a whore for doing it. Men like to show off, though,"
Alina was curious but didn't want to sound naive. She asked anyway. "What's a whore?"
"Saints..."
That led to a whole other discussion - a very enlightening one for Alina - which was only broken up when a strange sound reached them from outside her rooms. A woman moaning. Both girl paused, looked at each other, then fell into a fit of helpless giggles.
"You won't sleep very well until they stop," Her friend said. "He must not realise you can hear,"
"Or he doesn't care," Alina thought that was more likely. "Saints, why is she so loud?"
"She must be enjoying it a lot," Genya snickered.
Alina wondered why anyone would enjoy doing something that sounded so strange, but didn't feel like being patronised any more so said nothing.
Later that night, she woke up in a cold sweat, panting and afraid. The noises that had kept her awake were silent now, but she could almost hear her heart pounding in her chest. She hadn't had a nightmare that bad in months.
It was stupid, really. She was nine, not a baby, and should be able to sleep without being terrified of closing her eyes again. Alina would go weeks without a bad dream, then one would spring itself on her. Tonight had been more of the usual; Shu soldiers shouting, tearing through their home, hitting her father, whilst she watched through a hole in the floorboards, squeezed in impossibly tight in the hole between her mother and brother. But this time the soldiers had torn the trapdoor open, hands reaching in, grabbing her, hauling her out.
Then there was a flash of white light, burning flesh, blackened corpses surrounding her, but there were still Druskelle charging towards her, as far as the eye could see. A shadowy blade came out of nowhere, blood splattered everywhere, on her hands, on her face -
And then she had woken up. Of course she had; it was a dream, not real. So why was she still scared?
"Stop being pathetic," Alina told herself - her mother's favourite word - and turned over, squeezing her eyes shut and forcing herself not to open them, even if she was scared that the footsteps of the guards changing outside were soldiers coming to get her.
Yet despite this sound strategy, it was a long while before sleep found her again.
I love Alina and Zoya as a duo in this story haha. Obviously Alina's stance on mental health is that of a traumatised, emotionally stunted nine year old so do not take it to heart. Thanks for reading!
